


The Other Prince

by bettyripsom



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: M/M, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, anderperry, knight!neil, prince!todd, there will be an equal balance of angst and fluff hehe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28886508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettyripsom/pseuds/bettyripsom
Summary: “I’d like for you to abandon your guard posts in exchange for a position in the royal household,” the King declares. “I’d like for you to be my son’s personal bodyguard.”Pride begins to swell in Neil’s chest. He’s known for some time that his strength and skill have set him apart from many of the other knights, and has always secretly hoped for some recognition.“I’d be honored, Your Majesty,” Neil takes a knee once again, and daring to joke, continues, “though I reckon Jeffrey could take down any enemy on his own.” It wasn’t flattery; Jeffrey had trained closely with the knights, only a few years older than Neil, and was a natural with a sword.“Yes,” the King laughs, “that is true. Jeffrey, however, is not who you will be guarding.”Neil raises an eyebrow, confused.“You are to guard my other son, second in line to the throne. Prince Todd.”
Relationships: Charlie Dalton & Neil Perry, Todd Anderson & Neil Perry, Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 41
Kudos: 89





	1. One

Neil is in the middle of a sword-fight when the King’s messenger arrives.

“Give up?” He spits, grinning as he inches closer and closer to victory.

“Of course not,” Charlie smirks, breathless, as he dodges another swing from Neil’s sword.

The sun shines bright and hot over the courtyard. Light reflects off of Charlie’s armor, making Neil squint as he attacks. Some of the other knights, Knox and Cameron, stand off to the side, watching with interest. Several weeks had passed since the last time Neil and Charlie dueled, and Neil was thirsting for another victory. Charlie had gotten stronger in those few weeks, though, and cleverer.

“Ahem,” the messenger coughs, making Neil turn. Charlie takes the opportunity to smack him in the chest with his sword, and Neil doubles over, coughing.

“Ha! I won!” He grins, turning to Knox and Cameron.

“I don’t know if that counts,” Cameron states, pensive.

“Shut up, Cameron,” Charlie rolls his eyes, turning towards Neil again, who is standing up straight again and staring at the messenger with curiosity.

“The King has requested your presence,” the messenger states, the very mention of the King making all four of them stand a little straighter.

“Now?” Neil asks, turning to the other knights. He thinks it’s strange that the King would request their presence; they usually receive orders from the Prince, Jeffrey, who is rather close with the knights, similar in statue and skill. “We’re supposed to go on watch soon.”

“Not all of you,” the messenger says, a look in his eye that Neil can’t seem to place. “Just you, Sir Perry.” Then he turns, walking back towards the main entrance to the castle.

“Oh shit,” Charlie raises his eyebrows.

“What did you do?” Knox questions, looking at Neil with concern.

“I didn’t _do_ anything,” Neil scoffs, but he isn’t so sure. A few memories come to mind; him stealing pastries from the palace kitchen to share with the other knights, him teaching Charlie to rock-skip while guarding near the lake outside the castle. Nothing serious enough to warrant a talking-to from the King himself, surely.

A bell rings in the distance, signaling a change in guard post. Charlie slips his sword back into its sheath on his belt.

“Meet us at the pub?” he states as him and the other knights leave to their posts. “That is, if you’re alive later.”

Neil laughs, Charlie’s joke calming him a bit. Whatever the King is summoning him for can’t be _too_ serious, can it?

“Sir Perry, I fear that we are on the verge of war,” the King states, eyebrows furrowed with concern.

Neil rises from his kneeling position, and tries to grasp this information.

“War, Your Highness?” His voice wavers, and he tries his best to calm his nerves. There is always something so intimidating about addressing the King, even when with the other knights.Maybe it was the way the throne held the King so high above him, making him feel small. Maybe it was the knowledge that he could have Neil’s head on a plate if he wished.

“Yes,” the King continues, a hand on the side of his head, as if he’s suffering from a headache. “I’ve received word from neighboring kingdoms that an alliance is forming in the east,” he sighs. Neil looks over at the Queen, who seems similarly distressed.

“An alliance,” the King continues, “that seeks to take Welton as its own.”

“Surely-“ Neil takes a deep breath, “surely this is just speculation. There is no power in the east with the capability to take us over.”

“No singular power, maybe,” the King sighs. “But several powers, working together? There is no telling the strength this alliance could produce.”

Thoughts and worries begin to flood Neil’s brain. He sees himself standing amidst a battlefield, bloodied and bruised, raising his sword against a faceless foe.

The King must read the worry on his face, because he presses on.

“There is no true cause for concern just yet. The Prince is arranging a council meeting with our allies as we speak.” Neil notices for the first time that Jeffrey isn’t present, as he usually is when he visits the throne room.

“What can I do to help, Your Majesty?” Neil asks, wondering what his role could be in such an important time.

“Yes,” the King grins slightly, amused, “you are probably wondering why I summoned you here, alone.” Neil does not respond, only waits for the King to continue.

“Sir Perry, I have reason to believe I am not the main target of these enemy forces. I’m not exactly young, and my death would simply be preceded by Jeffrey taking the throne. I fear it is my heirs that are being targeted; _eliminate the heirs, eliminate the king, take the kingdom._ ”

Neil nods. Prince Jeffrey’s position is one of great importance.

“I’d like for you to abandon your guard posts in exchange for a position in the royal household,” the King declares. “I’d like for you to be my son’s personal bodyguard.”

Pride begins to swell in Neil’s chest. He’s known for some time that his strength and skill have set him apart from many of the other knights, and has always secretly hoped for some recognition.

“I’d be honored, Your Majesty,” Neil takes a knee once again, and daring to joke, continues, “though I reckon Jeffrey could take down any enemy on his own.” It wasn’t flattery; Jeffrey had trained closely with the knights, only a few years older than Neil, and was a natural with a sword.

“Yes,” the King laughs, “that is true. Jeffrey, however, is not who you will be guarding.”

Neil raises an eyebrow, confused.

“You are to guard my other son, second in line to the throne. Prince Todd.”

“You’re alive!” Charlie laughs, slapping Neil on the back as he joins the others at the bar. He rubs his hands, chilled from the walk to the pub. The days were hot and humid, but after nightfall the kingdom of Welton was host to frigid wind.

“Hey, Neil,” Pitts grins from behind the bar, already filling a glass with some mead.

“Hi,” Neil grins, sitting beside Charlie.

“How’s it going, Neil?” Meeks asks, emerging from the kitchen behind the bar, drying his hands with a hand towel. Neil and the other knights have been coming to Meeks and Pitts’ pub ever since it opened. It’s perfect: dim but not dark, populated but not crowded, lively but not loud. Not to mention the fact that Meeks and Pitts were very good friends of Neil’s and the other knights.

“Charlie told us you were summoned,” Pitts raises his eyebrows, leaning on the bar.

Neil launches into an explanation of his interaction with the King, leaving out the part about an impending war. The King instructed him to not say anything until an official threat is issued, so he instead states that the royals are simply in need of stronger security.

“You’re serious?” Charlie asks, taking a sip from his glass. “Neil, that’s great!”

“Congrats, Neil,” Knox adds.

“Thanks, guys,” Neil smiles warmly, taking the glass of mead from Pitts.

Though he knows being given a position protecting a member of the royal household is a cause for celebration, Neil doesn’t know how to feel, exactly. He doesn’t know much of Prince Todd (no one does, really) aside from seeing him at important events, or crossing paths with him in the castle. From what Neil can gather, he isn’t much like Jeffrey or his father, neither in the physical or social sense. Neil has never seen him wield a sword, or give an order. He has no idea what to expect.

Charlie seems to be thinking about the mysterious prince, too, as he turns to Neil and comments,

“Prince Todd, huh? I wonder what that’ll be like.”

Neil shrugs. Knox looks up from his glass.

“I hear he’s stuck up.”

“I’ve heard that, too,” Cameron adds.

“Oh yeah? Who said that?” Charlie questions, turning towards them.

“I dunno,” Knox takes a sip from his glass. “People. Other knights.”

“I’ve never seen him interact with any knights,” Charlie mutters.

Neil doesn’t comment. Instead he swallows down his drink, praying silently that Knox is wrong.

By the time Neil and Charlie stumble into their shared bedroom, a little past midnight, Neil’s eyelids are growing heavy with sleep. No doubt a result of his strenuous duel with Charlie, along with the three glasses of mead he downed at the pub.

“You start tomorrow?” Charlie asks, setting a candle down on his night stand. The flickering flame paints strange shapes onto the wall behind him.

“Yes,” Neil utters, changing into his night clothes. He wants to confide in Charlie about the threat of war, the worry beginning to worm his way into his thoughts, but stops himself. He feels guilty keeping information from his best friend, but he’s under the King’s orders, after all. He resolves to tell Charlie as soon as he is permitted.

“I’m really happy for you,” Charlie mumbles, pulling his blanket over himself as he settles into his cot.

“Thanks, Charlie,” Neil smiles, and blows out the candle. Charlie is quiet for a while, and Neil thinks he’s fallen asleep, but then he adds,

“Good night, Neil.”

“Good night.”

Despite the day’s momentous events, sleep takes Neil quickly.

He dreams of fire, of running through the forest, sword drawn. He’s being chased, though he doesn’t know by who, exactly. The trees are in flames around him, surrounding him in intense heat, sweat beading on his skin. His sword feels heavy, much heavier than usual, and soon he finds he can no longer carry it; he’s stuck, struggling to lift his sword up, and whoever is chasing him is closing in— he can feel their breath on his neck—

“Neil,” Charlie groans, rubbing his eye with one hand and shaking Neil’s shoulder lightly with the other.

“Wake up, Neil,” Charlie yawns, “time to go protect the Prince.”


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil spends his first day as Todd's bodyguard. It's weird for the both of them.

Neil’s anxiety grows with each step he takes towards the castle. The King had instructed him to wait for Prince Todd outside his chambers in the morning; he hopes he’s early enough. The sun is barely risen, painting the sky a pretty shade of orange. Any trace of sleep has vanished from Neil, and he’s already forgotten the sting of his nightmare.

As he enters the castle he realizes he’s not entirely sure where the Prince’s chambers are. He knows where Prince Jeffrey’s bedroom resides, and where the King and Queen sleep, but has never had any reason to seek out where Todd resides. Until now, that is. He stops and asks for directions from a nobleman, who points him towards the west wing.

Prince Todd’s room is rather isolated, at the end of a long hallway on the second floor. Neil wonders why he decides to stay here, rather than in one of the large and open rooms on the ground floor, like Jeffrey’s. He stops when he reaches the door, and listens. He can hear movement from inside; Todd must be awake already. An early riser. He’ll have to wake up earlier than ever to keep up. After a few minutes of waiting Neil hears footsteps approach the door. He steps aside as it opens.

Todd’s eyes widen when he sees Neil, alarmed. He must not have expected him to be there. Neil takes in his features, never having seen him up close until now. A chiseled nose, hair a few shades darker than dirty blonde. Pale blue eyes.

“Good morning, sire,” Neil smiles, “sorry if I scared you. Your father instructed me to wait for you here.”

Todd’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“My father? You- sorry, what?” His voice is soft, apprehensive. Neil realizes almost immediately that Todd hasn’t been informed.

“I’m to be your bodyguard,” Neil explains. “Your father fears for your safety.”

“Oh,” Todd breathes, with an unreadable expression. “Right. Okay.”

He doesn’t move, simply stares at Neil, who is feeling equally out of place.

“So,” Neil says, “where can I accompany you to, sire?”

Todd flinches slightly at the title.

“Todd. I mean, uh— you can just call me Todd.”

“As you wish, si— I mean, Todd,” Neil responds, and realizing he hasn’t introduced himself, continues, “I’m Neil. Neil Perry.”

“I know,” Todd admits, and then adds, “I mean, I’ve seen you around before.”

“Oh,” Neil remarks. He hadn’t expected Todd to know who he was: there are lots of great knights in Welton. He feels his cheeks turning slightly red.

“So, I, uh. I usually go to the dining hall first. For breakfast.” Todd stammers.

“Right,” Neil nods. “As you wish.”

Being someone’s personal bodyguard is filled with far more awkward silences than Neil expected. The walk to the dining hall is normal enough, but every moment afterwards is coated with a layer of uncertainty and— well, _weird_. He doesn’t blame Todd for his strange composure; having a stranger follow you around must be equally as distressing as following a stranger around, if not more.

Neil stands aside as Todd grabs a piece of bread, and then walks over to one of the many empty tables. Neil isn’t sure if he should go sit with him or stand by the door, but Todd’s strange glance in his direction suggests it would be less awkward if he sat. He takes a seat across from him.

“Are you hungry?” Todd questions, looking over at the array of foods laid out in the center of the room.

“No, but thanks,” Neil responds, and though he doesn’t speak loudly he feels his words echo. The large room is entirely empty except for them two.

“Do you usually wake up this early?” Neil asks. Todd nods, taking a second to swallow before answering.

“It’s quieter.”

It definitely is quiet. To Neil, who’s used to Charlie’s laughter and arguments over breakfast, it’s almost too quiet.

Neil is suddenly curious about what the day will entail. In his experience around Jeffrey he knows there are several responsibilities for a prince throughout the day, but Jeffrey is the crown prince: a very important distinction. The majority of what Neil has seen him do (training, attend council meetings, strategize defense) likely isn’t relevant to Todd.

“So,” he begins, not wanting to sound too expectant, “what do you usually do? In a day, I mean. Just so I know what to expect.”

Todd smiles subtly, as if he’s amused by the question (or maybe by his response).

“Not much,” he admits, pushing the remainder of his bread aside. “I go to the library. Sometimes I walk.” He doesn’t elaborate.

Neil’s reluctance must be obvious, because Todd adds, begrudgingly,

“Sorry. I’m not very interesting.”

Neil opens his mouth to apologize, but Todd stops him.

“It’s fine, really. You’re a knight. Used to action, danger.” He averts his gaze. Neil has to lean in closer to hear him; he really is quite soft-spoken.

“I’m afraid your talent is being wasted for the time being. Soon my father will see that no one is concerned with me, and you can go back to your adventure.”

Then he stands, wrapping the remaining piece of bread in a napkin and slipping it into his pocket, and begins to walk away. For a moment Neil watches him go, still pondering his words. Then he rises, takes a deep breath, and follows.

“Neil!” Charlie grins, leaning against a pillar at the entrance of the palace.

“How was it?”

 _How was it?_ Neil thinks. He isn’t sure how to respond. The day had been entirely underwhelming; he hadn’t been expecting anything too exciting, but Todd hadn’t been lying when he said he didn’t do much. Neil had accompanied him to the palace library, where Todd browsed for a while, and then to the gardens, where Todd sat under a large, shady tree to read. They hadn’t spoken much at all after breakfast, Todd evidently not being very talkative to begin with, and Neil not knowing what to say. He couldn’t say that Todd was stuck-up, as Knox and the other knights had commented, but he wasn’t entirely easy to interact with. He was considerate, at the very least, and had gone with Neil back to the palace for lunch, something he didn’t seem used to doing.

Todd had retired to his room for the night a few hours later, rather early. Even though Neil knew it was likely an attempt to get rid of him, he was also grateful to be alone again.

“It was fine,” Neil smiles, unconvincingly.

“Just ‘fine’? Is he nice?” Charlie questions, getting the attention of Knox, who approaches to join the conversation.

“He’s nice,” Neil discloses, “quiet. I don’t really know what to make of him.”

“I’m not sure what to make of him,” Todd muses, taking a seat by the fire. The day’s events had drained him of his energy as his usual, comfortable routine had transformed into an awkward nightmare. Everything he was used to doing felt embarrassing under Neil’s gaze: the way he wandered the grounds alone, the way he wasted the days away on books and stories. Returning to the castle for lunch, at its busiest, had filled Todd with dread and nausea. He should have realized Neil would have to eat, too, and a small piece of bread clearly wasn’t enough for the both of them.

He hadn’t even gone to see Keating (his mentor? friend? teacher?), until now. Todd thought that would be all too strange, too intimate. Instead he had told Neil he was retiring for the night (at seven in the afternoon) and snuck back out an hour later. He was grateful that Neil wouldn’t be posted outside his bedroom at night, at least.

“Did you talk to him?” Keating questions, offering Todd some tea. Todd takes the warm cup from his hands.

“No, not really,” he admits. “I think he probably felt as weird as I did.”

“Probably,” Keating nods.

“It just— it has to be some sort of cruel joke, right? My father messing with me, or punishing him, I don’t know.”

“What makes you think that?” Keating asks, leaning back in his seat.

“Come on,” Todd laughs, slightly bitter, “we both know no one is after me. That’s ridiculous.”

It had taken Todd every ounce of his strength not to laugh when Neil had revealed the reason he was outside his door (which was horrifying, to say the least. The last thing he expected to see in the morning, with his bedhead and eye bags, was a handsome knight).

 _Your father fears for your safety_. It sounded just as believable as _There is a man-eating unicorn in the courtyard._

“You don’t know that for certain. You may not be the eldest, Todd, but you’re still a prince,” Keating reminds him, taking a sip from his cup.

“Barely,” Todd rolls his eyes jokingly. When he was younger he had felt more important, accompanying his brother and father to important meetings, learning the ins and outs of running a kingdom. Something had changed, though, when Jeffrey had turned 15; any and all semblance of responsibility had been taken up by him, leaving Todd with nothing. Nothing to do, nothing to say, nothing to help with. Jeffrey did so much that Todd was left—for lack of a better word— purposeless.

“I feel bad for him,” Todd sighs. “He must have been so bored. He— he probably thinks I’m boring.”

“Maybe,” Keating simpers, making Todd laugh. “Or maybe he doesn’t.” He stands, bending down to grab a log before tossing it into the fire.

“The way I see it, Todd, you can either suffer for—well, God knows how long,” he sighs, “or you can make a bit of an effort. It might not be so bad once you get to know the knight— what’s his name again? Neil.”

As much as he hates it, Todd knows that Keating is right. He’ll have to open up a bit. Either that or convince his father to change his mind about assigning him a body-guard.

 _Opening up it is,_ Todd thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to everyone who left sweet comments, either on chapter one or on my tumblr :)) writing this is way more fun than paying attention to zoom lectures so that's what i've been doing today <3


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd forces himself to open up to Neil.

The first conscious thought Todd has in the morning is _Neil is outside my door_. The thought makes him want to roll over and go back to sleep, forever. Following his talk with Keating last night, after sneaking back into his room and hiding under the covers, he decided he would try to be more open with Neil. Ask him about himself. Answer questions, if Neil had any.

That’s how people befriend one another, right? Todd can’t seem to remember. He used to be friends with the other young boys who hang around the castle, sons of noblemen and knights in training and such, but that was before he got all… _awkward_ around them. Too invested, too close. By the time he turned fourteen Todd had determined it was better to be on his own than for him to get swept up in his friendships. Sometimes they had been fun, sure, but other times he’d get flustered, turn red, get too possessive.Not good for him; not good at all.

Todd picks out a navy blue tunic for the day, paired with his usual brown pants. He gets ready slightly quicker than usual, not wanting Neil to hear him pace back and forth aimlessly for half an hour.

“Good morning,” he says as he opens the door. Neil turns his head to look at him, leaning with a foot propped up against the wall. The dark red of his shirt pairs nicely with his tanned skin. Todd could tell any knight by their tan.

“Good morning,” he smiles, and Todd reciprocates.

As if solely to embarrass him, Todd’s stomach growls. He hasn’t had much to eat recently: yesterday’s bread, an apple, and the tea Keating offered him in the evening.

Neil chuckles.

“Breakfast?” Todd feels his face growing red.

“Breakfast,” he nods.

Neil does grab some food today when Todd offers; he’s not sure if Neil had already eaten yesterday, or if he had been too coy to take anything.

“I wanted to apologize,” Neil says as they take their seats. The mess hall is once again empty.

“I hope I didn’t make you feel… uncomfortable with yourself, or your routine. I do enjoy an adventure, sure, but that doesn’t mean I dislike this position. It’s an honor.”

Although Todd doesn’t believe he’s worthy of the apology, and knows Neil is probably lying about liking this position, it still gives him a warm, comfortable feeling.

“No, don’t apologize. I completely understand. I’m sorry if I was curt with you.”

“That’s alright,’ Neil smiles up at him, and Todd can tell he means it.

There’s a slight pause in the conversation as they both begin to eat their breakfast.

 _Okay,_ Todd thinks. _This is good. Now, questions._

“So,” he gulps, “how did you become a knight?”

Neil seems surprised at the question, likely because Todd hadn’t attempted to start any kind of conversation the day prior.

“My father was a blacksmith,” he begins, taking a sip of water. “He wanted me to do the same. I hated it. I always preferred swinging a sword to forging one.”

Todd laughs. He’s seen Neil train amongst the other knights, and can tell that he’s a natural swordsman.

“My best friend Charlie— he’s a knight too, his father is one of your father’s advisors— helped me train. Then he got me an audience with your brother and some of the other leaders. They liked me. Now I’m here,” he grins, taking a bite of an apple. His smile is contagious. Todd nods, taking in the story. Of course his brother would know Neil: he knows all the knights.

“And your father?” Todd questions, hoping he isn’t being too intrusive.

Neil shakes his head, his smile dropping slightly.

“I never went back.”

Todd wonders what it would be like to leave his father. To leave the palace, to leave Welton.

“What about you?” Neil asks, pulling Todd out of his thoughts.

“What about me?” Todd quips, and then, feeling as though he’s come off as defensive, adds, “There isn’t much to tell.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Neil retorts. “I know you like to read. When did that start?”

Todd ponders the question. He hasn’t thought about it before.

“I guess I’ve always liked it,” he remarks. “I was too clumsy as a kid for sword-fighting, or archery, or anything like that.” _I’m still very clumsy,_ he thinks.

“A friend of mine,” Todd continues, choosing his words carefully, “he teaches me about literature. Recommends books. He’s my teacher, in a way.”

Telling Neil about Keating brings back the memory of the first time Todd had spoken with him. He was fifteen, lost in a sea of nobles and knights and royals from neighboring kingdoms. Todd had never been very comfortable at big events, and the feast was quickly overwhelming him. Keating had approached him, probably noticing how distressed he was, and said,

“ _You know what helps me? I picture everyone in their underwear.”_

Todd had laughed so hard at the idea of the noblemen in their underwear that his chest hurt, and his worries were almost forgotten. They had gotten along swimmingly ever since. Todd saw him as more of a father than his own father at times. He liked to believe Keating saw him as a son.

“That must be nice,” Neil responds, genuine. “Having access to all those books, I mean. I used to read as a kid, but there weren’t many books around.”

“Yes,” Todd smiles. “It is nice.” And then, a moment later: “I’ll show you.”

Todd’s favorite place in the palace has always been the library. He knows that books aren’t so easy to come by in the real world (as Neil’s comment had reminded him) and considers access to so much knowledge one of the good things about being a prince.

When they enter the library today, Todd takes the time to explain to Neil how the books are organized; he points out the different genres and volumes, takes down some of his favorites to show him. It’s far better than browsing while Neil stands aimlessly by the door, like yesterday. Todd doesn’t realize that his hands are no longer sweaty, his stomach no longer queasy. Talking to Neil is almost easy.

 _“Le Morte d’Arthur,”_ Neil remarks, pulling it gently off the shelf. “My father had a copy. I used to take it and read about the knights of the round table.”

“That isn’t surprising,” Todd laughs.

“I suppose not,” Neil laughs along. “Probably why I wanted to be one so bad.”

“Probably,” Todd nods. He runs his fingers subconsciously along the spines of each book on the shelf they face.

“Do you have a favorite?” Neil asks.

“Yes,” he replies, though he hadn’t thought about whether or not he had a favorite until now.

“The Iliad.”

“Oh,” Neil frowns, “I don’t know much about the Iliad.”

“I could read it to you,” Todd mumbles, without thinking.

 _Oh no. That was weird,_ he thinks. _It was weird, it was too weird. He probably thinks I’m weird._

Neil doesn’t falter, though. He doesn’t give Todd time for doubt.

“I’d like that,” he says.

Neil is smiling when he arrives at the pub.

“Hey, Neil,” Meeks smiles, noticing him first. The others greet him similarly, aside from Charlie, who says,

“How’s it going, big shot?”

Neil rolls his eyes, taking his usual spot in the center of the bar.

“I’ve missed you guys,” he admits. Though the day went okay ( _better than okay,_ he thinks) Neil does feel strange not spending most of his time around the other knights.

“Oh wow,” Charlie raises his eyebrows. “Prince Todd must be horrible if you’re missing these losers.”

“Shut up, Charlie,” Pitts groans, and Knox punches him in the arm.

“He isn’t, actually,” Neil discloses. “He’s actually… pretty great.”

And he really means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii okay so let's just go with the idea that le morte d'arthur came out before whenever it is this story takes place. cool? cool <3  
> this chap is a little shorter bc i feel like the next one is gonna be longer somehow (*evil laughter*) also this is my first time writing so much in the present tense bc i usually write past tense stuff and it's kind of a vibe . disregard any grammar errors im still getting used to it lol  
> thanks again to everyone who's reading this <33


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd is invited to dine with his father, who has an ulterior motive.

Todd and Neil are in the palace gardens, several pages into the onset of the Iliad, when the messenger approaches.

 _“Go, Patroclus, Prince, bring out the girl and hand them to her so they can take her back. But let them both bear witness to my loss, in the face of blissful gods and mortal men…”_ Todd reads, his voice steady. With the past few days a comfortable rhythm has begun to form. They talk, they walk the grounds. They read in silence in the library. Neil even showed Todd some of his favorite sword tricks. Todd feels as though he is no longer going about his day as Neil follows, but instead almost as if he and Neil are going about their days together.

He sits at the base of his favorite tree, large and shady. Neil, who says he’ll get in trouble if he’s seen sitting, stands, instead leaning against the trunk. He stands up straight as the messenger approaches, which snaps Todd out of his reading.

“Prince Todd,” the messenger states, his voice nasally. Todd doesn’t stand.

“The King has requested your presence at dinner tonight.”

“My father?” Todd questions, confused. “Did he say why?”

“No, sire. Just that you are to be there.”

Worry begins to form in the pit of Todd’s stomach. It’s been months since the last time he had dinner with his parents and brother, for his mother’s birthday. When he was younger he was subjected to nightly dinners, tense and awkward, but at some point his parents had allowed him to be on his own. He isn’t sure what the reason behind this dinner could be; it isn’t anyone’s birthday, no special occasion.

After the messenger leaves Todd attempts to jump back into his reading of the Iliad. Neil can probably hear the newfound nervousness in his voice, but he doesn’t bring it up until later in the afternoon, as they walk to Todd’s chambers.

“So,” he comments, trying to seem casual, “dinner tonight, huh?”

“Mhm,” Todd nods, hands in his pockets, trying to remain expressionless.

“What could that be about?” Neil adds, likely in an attempt to get Todd to explain his shift in mood.

“I’m not sure, honestly,” Todd states, sighing, “I never dine with him.”  
“Do you think it’s bad news?” Neil asks, his voice taking on a strange tone. Todd realizes he must be worried about the threat of war his father has been speaking of. He isn’t too worried himself; they’re just rumors, after all, and if he lets himself think about it too much his anxiety will spiral out of control.

“I don’t know,” Todd mumbles. “I guess I’ll find out soon enough.”

Neil waits outside as Todd changes into more fancy clothing. Though he’s perfectly fine dressing normally in his day-to-day life, he knows his father will likely criticize him if he doesn’t change into something more elegant.

“Your Majesty,” Neil bows ceremoniously, giggling, as Todd emerges.

“Very funny,” Todd rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop himself from laughing.

“Should I wait outside?” Neil asks as they near the entrance of the royal dining room. A few days ago he had embarrassingly admitted to Todd that he still wasn’t exactly clear where his responsibilities began and ended; the King hadn’t been very specific.

“Yes, you probably should,” Todd replies, his eyes glued to the doors. Though he would never admit it to himself, he wants Neil outside for his own sake, not Neil’s. Something concrete, comforting, to keep him grounded. He’s more nervous than he expected himself to be, more nervous than someone _should_ be about dining with their own family.

“Good luck,” Neil smiles warmly as Todd pushes the door open. His mother and father are already seated at the end of the table (his father at the head, his mother to the right). Two other placemats are set at the table: one across from the Queen, and another next to her. Todd deduces that the seat next to her belongs to him; Jeffrey will likely take his place next to their father.

“Todd,” the Queen smiles as he approaches. “So lovely of you to join us.”

Todd resists the urge to laugh. _I’m only here because I have to be,_ he thinks.

“It has been a while since you’ve dined with us, hasn’t it?” The King grins as Todd takes his seat. “We rarely see you anymore.”

Todd doesn’t respond, just nods. He said the same thing last week, when Todd had entered the throne room to ask about the threat of war. Jeffrey had mentioned it to him offhandedly, and it took Todd a second to realize there was something going on—something rather important— that no one had bothered to inform him of.The next morning, Neil had showed up outside his door.

“I trust Sir Perry has made an adequate bodyguard so far,” the King continues, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Yes,” Todd’s eyes flicker toward the door, “he’s great.”

As he watches Jeffrey enters, running a hand through his hair.

“Sorry I’m late,” he sighs, taking his seat across from the Queen. He gives Todd a little nod, as if to say, _hi there._

 _“_ That’s alright, dear. We just sat down,” the Queen responds.

“How was the meeting?” The King asks, turning his attention to Jeffrey.

“Fine,” Jeffrey reaches for his glass, already filled with water. “We were able to work through several ideas.”

“Excellent,” the King smiles, satisfied, leaning back slightly in his chair.

Right on time, three serving girls enter from the back door and lay out dinner; meats, cheeses, bread, some roasted vegetables. One of them— Bianca, Todd remembers— sets a plate in front of him.

“Thank you, Bianca,” he smiles at her. Her eyes widen a bit, surprised, and she nods at him silently before scurrying away.

“I think you scared her,” Jeffrey laughs, “they aren’t used to being thanked.” Todd can’t tell if this is a criticism of his manners, or of the rest of the family.

“Tell me, Todd,” the King stabs a piece of ham with his fork, bringing it to his mouth, “do you know all the servants by name? Or just the pretty ones?”

Todd feels his face grow warm. Bianca is pretty, that much is true. But he doesn’t like the implications of his father’s question.

“You interact with them every day,” he states, serving himself from vegetables. “Have you not learned their names by now?”

“Hush,” the Queen interjects. Though her attempts to keep the peace usually annoy Todd, he bites his tongue, realizing he doesn’t want to be the one to ruin dinner.

“Defensive, are we?” Jeffrey chuckles. _Shut up,_ Todd thinks, annoyed, but still uncertain as to whether Jeffrey is with him or against him. Their relationship outside the view of their parents was fine enough, but Jeffrey sometimes took on a different demeanor when around the King.

“Speaking of pretty girls,” the King takes a sip of his wine, “I was speaking to the King of Elsin earlier. His daughter, Ariane, is to be married soon.”

“That’s nice,” Jeffrey comments, mouth full of bread. “To whom?”

Todd’s mother shifts next to him, eyes locking with his father.

“That’s actually why I summoned you to dine with us, Todd,” he states, his expression unreadable. Todd feels him stomach turn.

“We feel as though,” he begins, gesturing to the Queen, “you should marry. And Ariane would be a more than suitable match. We could use an alliance with Elsin now more than ever before.”

Todd feels as though he’s been hit on the side of the head with a club. Dizzy, nauseous. Some of his father’s words echo in his mind: _marry, match, alliance…_ He opens his mouth to speak but his words feel trapped in his throat.

Jeffrey breaks the silence.

“Father,” he starts, nervously, “you can’t be serious. Todd only turned eighteen a few months ago.”

“Jeffrey-“ the Queen begins, likely to rebuke him, but the King holds a hand up, silencing her.

“I understand that,” he sighs, “but we don’t have many options.”

“What about the treaty?” Jeffrey questions, and amidst all of his emotions Todd feels a surge of love for his brother, who has unexpectedly come to his rescue.

“Some of the kings are hesitant,” the King continues, his attention shifted towards Jeffrey. “They feel as though they have much more to lose if something goes awry.”

“I— I can’t get _married,”_ Todd chokes out, finally finding the strength to speak. “I can’t just—leave Welton.”

“And why not?” His father turns towards him, his mood transforming from frustration to anger. “There is nothing holding you here. No real responsibilities, no relationships—“

“No relationships?” Todd exclaims, his heart pounding, eyes watering. “I’m your _son!”_

“You’d hardly be able to tell,” his father spits.

To his right, Todd’s mother gasps. Her hand flies up to cover her mouth.

“Why so quiet?” The King continues, eyes shifting from Todd, to Jeffrey, to his wife. “It’s true. We rarely see you, and when we do you say _nothing—“_

 _“_ Because you never listen—“ Todd cries, and it’s bad now, his breath coming in short, quick gasps.

“Your brother would marry if it was required of him, without hesitation.”

“I’m sorry I can’t be him,” Todd bellows, “your perfect son—“

“Enough!” His mother shouts, resting her face into her hands. “Please. Enough.”

They sit in silence for a moment, all four of them, and Todd thinks, _I need to leave, I can’t be here, I need to go_ , and shakily pushes himself onto his feet.

“Todd—“ Jeffrey begins, about to follow, but the King pulls him back into his seat.

“Let him go,” Todd hears him snarl as he races towards the door.

“Todd?” Neil questions, already by the door, clearly concerned. Todd can’t stand to face him looking and feeling like such a wreck, and finds himself racing towards the nearest room, which happens to be a cellar. He closes the door, pressing his back against it, trying desperately to catch his breath in the darkness.

“Todd? Are you alright?” Neil’s muffled voice rings from behind the door, followed closely by “let me in.”

After wiping his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, he does. Neil slips in quickly, shutting the door again behind him.

“I’m sorry, I— I just—“ Todd begins, but Neil stops him.

“It’s alright,” he coos, “it’s okay.” He rests a hand comfortingly on Todd’s shoulder, and Todd doesn’t move it away. It’s warm, real.

“It just—“ Todd laughs, hollow, “I knew it would be bad, but, wow.”

Neil nods.

“I heard shouting, I figured…”

 _Of course you did,_ Todd thinks, embarrassed. He wonders if Neil heard what the argument was about, or his father’s sly comments about Bianca. He prays he didn’t.

“Look, why don’t we get out of here?” Neil says softly, moving his hand away. Todd wishes he wouldn’t.

“You need some fresh air,” he continues.

“I need a distraction,” Todd adds, rubbing his face. He needs to go somewhere, do something.

Neil’s face lights up, like he has an idea.

“I know just the place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> talk about toxic..... no but seriously writing that was # distressing lol iykyk  
> bianca >> every other character  
> anyways *spoiler* but neil is taking todd to the pub and i cant wait to write/post the next chapter :))  
> <3


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd and his new friends get drunk.

The door is open when Neil arrives home. 

“Do you _want_ us to get robbed?” He says as he enters, spotting Charlie in the corner taking off his armor.

“No,” Charlie laughs, “I just want all the pretty girls who walk by to see me undress.”

“No pretty girls live around here, Charlie. Just knights.”

Neil shuts the door and sets his helmet down.

“Oh,” Charlie ponders this for a moment, and then grins, “well, them too.”

Neil laughs, and then pauses, trying to decide how to best phrase his next sentence.

“So, Todd had a really bad day today.”

“Todd?” Charlie begins to slip on a clean shirt. “Prince Todd?”

“Yeah,” Neil sits at the edge of his cot. “So I—well, I kind of— I told him I’d take him to the pub.”

Charlie freezes, turning to face Neil, perplexed.

“The pub? Meeks and Pitts’ pub?”

Neil nods.

“Don’t freak out,” he pleads. “I know it might be a little strange, but he needs this. He needs friends.”

Charlie nods. Over the past couple of days Neil had disclosed a bit about Todd and his isolation. Aside from Keating (who Neil still hasn’t gotten to meet) and himself, Neil isn’t sure Todd interacts with many other people. And the argument at dinner—of which Neil heard only bits and pieces, but enough to know it was bad— had likely wrecked whatever comfort Todd had left.

“I don’t mind, Neil, I just— you’re with him all day. You’d think that you wouldn’t want him to be around the few hours you _aren’t_ working.”

 _Maybe he has a point,_ Neil thinks. Up until now he’s always maintained a great separation between his work and his free time. The thing is, being Todd’s bodyguard isn’t work, exactly. It’s a position, sure, and he’s getting paid for it, but it doesn’t feel like he should be. Hell, he’d probably do it for free.

“I don’t mind,” Neil concludes. “We get along really well. I think— I think we’re friends.”

 _We_ are _friends,_ he thinks to himself, coming to the realization for the first time. _Todd and I are friends._

“If you say so,” Charlie says, and Neil doesn’t detect any sarcasm. He believes him.

“One more thing,” Neil continues, eyes shifting to Charlie’s wardrobe.   
“I need to borrow some clothes.”

“Okay, Your Majesty,” Neil laughs as Todd opens his bedroom door, “you outfit has been obtained.” He hands him Charlie’s maroon shirt and dark brown pants, which are haphazardly folded.

Todd takes them hesitantly.

“Are you sure?” He asks, pacing slightly. His bed stands behind him, perpetually unmade. The room is organized, but in a disorganized way; neat, but scattered. Books, papers, and pens litter each surface. Neil recalls a conversation from three days ago, when Todd had finally shown him his room.

_“Don’t the servants come in to make the beds, and all that?”_

_“They don’t come in here. I told them I’d rather do it myself.”_

_“Well, you’ve clearly done a great job.”_

_“Shut up.”_

Neil smiles to himself, and nods.

“Try them on.”

Todd stands still for a second, tense.

“Could you…”

Neil starts, embarrassed. _Duh_ , he thinks. _Todd can’t get_ dressed _until he’s_ undressed _, idiot._

“Yes, right, sorry.” He turns to face the door, feeling his cheeks go red. Todd shifts quietly behind him as he changes.

“Okay, done,” Todd speaks after a minute, and Neil turns back around. The clothes fit well, better than he expected. He was right to use Charlie’s clothes instead of his own, which probably would have been a little tighter.

“Perfect,” Neil grins, “you look like… well, anyone.”

Todd laughs, flattening out his right sleeve.

“Thanks.”

“What’s your code name? Like, in case someone asks who you are?”

Todd thinks on this for a moment.

“Uh… Fabio.”

“Fabio?” Neil shrieks, bursting into laughter.

“It’s the only name I could think of!”

“F-Fabio,” Neil repeats, doubling over. Todd shakes his head, laughing along.

“Okay,” Neil takes a deep breath, recovering. “Okay, Fabio. We can go as soon as the sun starts to set.”

Sneaking Todd out of the Palace is far easier than Neil expected, which is both convenient and concerning. No one stops them to see who they are or where they’re going, and they get to the town square almost immediately. Todd pauses for a moment, pensive.

“You okay?” Neil asks.

“Yes,” Todd smiles, looking around. Townspeople scurry about their evening business, many on their way home. A group of children kick a ball around by the fountain. An old man sits on the other side, feeding bread crumbs to a flock of birds.

“I haven’t been out here in so long. I forgot how nice it is.”

Neil takes a moment to appreciate the town in all its beauty. The sunset has left the sky tinged with pink and purple, and a cool breeze scatters the fallen leaves at his feet.

“It is nice,” he agrees.

As they arrive at the pub, Neil begins to grow a little nervous. He told Charlie to tell the others about Todd so that they wouldn’t react drastically, but he knows there’s still room for awkwardness. Lots of room.

Todd seems nervous, too. He rubs his hands anxiously on his pants, and his eyes are wide.

“Hey,” Neil speaks softly, swallowing his own worry, “it’ll be great.” Todd offers a half-smile in response.

Neil’s friends take to Todd much faster than he expected them to. Charlie pulls him under his wing almost immediately, introducing him to the others as if he’s known Todd for years. Todd blushes the entire time, but Neil can tell he’s enjoying himself. Pitts pours them all a round of mead as they settle into the night.

“Thank you,” Todd grins. He eyes the glass with wonder.

“You ever had mead?” Knox asks, and Todd shakes his head.

“No,” he admits, reluctant. “Just some wine. Not a lot.”

“Well then,” Charlie laughs, holding up his glass as if to make a toast. “This’ll be fun.”

Neil hasn’t seen his friends this wasted in _months._ He’s not sure what caused it: Charlie’s avid encouragement, the excitement of Todd being there, or Pitts’ incessant pouring (or maybe a combination of all three). He’s managed to keep himself steady, knowing he should probably stay sober enough to look after Todd (and Charlie, once he gets home). Everyone else aside from Meeks (including Pitts, who decided after a while he’d rather be on the other side of the bar) is far gone.

“Ohhh, I bet I can touch the ceiling,” Knox brags as they near the doorway.

“Cannot,” Cameron laughs, his eyes droopy.

Knox jumps, hand grazing the top of the tall doorframe.

“I DID IT!” He yells.

“That’s the doorway, dumbass,” Charlie snorts, “not the ceiling.”

“I bet I can touch that, too!”

From a distance Meeks yells, “You’re going to hurt yourself!”

Meanwhile, Todd trails behind, clearly imbalanced.

“You okay?” Neil grins, taking him by the arm.

“Oh, yes,” Todd giggles, “never been better.” His cheeks are glowing red, his eyes bright. He looks almost like an intensified caricature of himself. Neil thinks it’s beautiful.

“Right,” Neil steadies him before pulling him along. “Let’s get you home, Fabio.”

“Fabio doesn’t want to go home,” Todd whines.

Neil laughs. Charlie staggers ahead, and Neil is amazed by how he hasn’t fallen over yet.

Once they’re out of earshot from the others, Todd slurs,

“I like them. They’re great.”

“I’m glad,” Neil replies. “I think they like you, too.”

“Yeah?” Todd beams.

“Yeah.”

It’s past midnight and the wind is fierce now, sending a chill down Neil’s spine. Todd doesn’t seem too bothered as the alcohol has him radiating heat like a furnace. They enter the palace just as easily as they exited, though this time they do receive a few strange looks from the knights standing guard. They recognize Neil, though, and surprisingly don’t pose any questions. Getting Todd up the stairs is both challenging and hilarious, and Neil has to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing too hard and causing a commotion.

“Here we are,” Neil announces, pushing open Todd’s bedroom door. Todd stumbles in, the exhaustion beginning to show on his face.

“It’s dark,” Todd complains. Neil lights a candle and nudges him towards his bed.

“Thank you, Neil.”

“Go on,” he smiles. He can’t wait to hear Todd’s recollection (if any) of the nights’ events in the morning.

“Really, though. Thank you. For tonight.” Todd smiles earnestly.

“It’s no problem,” Neil responds, setting the candle down on Todd’s nightstand. He pushes aside some sheets of paper with Todd’s handwriting scrawled across them. He doesn’t read any of it, not wanting to invade Todd’s privacy.

“I’m awake,” Todd mumbles, taking off his shoes and tossing them to the ground before allowing himself to fall into his duvet.

“Yes, but not for long,” Neil chuckles, lifting the duvet over him.

Todd breathes out deeply, his eyes falling shut.

“I wasn’t, before,” he murmurs.

“What do you mean?” Neil whispers. “Todd?”

Todd doesn’t respond, and soon his chest begins to rise and fall in sequence, sleep overtaking him.

Neil blows out the candle.

“Good night, Todd.”

As he walks home, trying to shield himself from the icy wind, those drunken, senseless words play over and over again in Neil’s mind.

_I’m awake. I wasn’t, before._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a very eventful night for fabio!   
> a less serious chapter to counter last chapter's angst.   
> thank u again to everyone reading/commenting, you guys make my day!!!  
> <3


	6. Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd has a hangover, and Neil finally meets Keating.

Todd wakes up to a splitting headache and the sound of someone pounding on his bedroom door. He rolls over, rubbing his eyes. The tiniest amount of daylight has begun to seep in through his window, suggesting it’s rather early.

 _Neil?_ He thinks, perplexed, as he struggles to pull himself out of bed. He doesn’t remember much from last night, but remembers enough to know why he feels like death.

He finds his brother standing at the door, groomed, dressed, and energetic.

“Holy shit,” Jeffrey exclaims, taking in Todd’s disheveled appearance. “You look horrible. Did I wake you?”

“Yes,” Todd groans, stepping aside as his brother enters. He glances out into the hallway, but Neil isn’t there yet.

“What time is it?” Todd questions, shutting the door.

“Six,” Jeffrey responds, crossing over to the window. He turns again, looking Todd up and down.

“Are you hungover?”

Todd doesn’t respond, and instead gets back into bed, wrapping himself in his comforter.

“Right,” Jeffrey chuckles, taking a seat at the end of the bed. “Is that where you snuck off to last night? A bar?”

“Pub,” Todd clarifies, peeking out from under the blanket. “How did you know?”

“Guards told me,” Jeffrey grins, hands fidgeting with a pen from Todd’s desk.

“You’re lucky they report to me now, and not Dad.”

“Lucky me,” Todd sighs.

Jeffrey doesn’t respond for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought.

“I spoke to him last night,” he finally says, and Todd sits up, curious.

“He wasn’t happy, at all, with either of us, but I think you’re safe from being married off. For now, at least,” he laughs.

Despite his headache and the nausea creeping its way into his stomach, Todd feels a weight being lifted off his shoulders. He hadn’t entirely expected himself to be shipped away— he would have died fighting to stay— but feels relieved at knowing he won’t have to fight in the first place.

“Thank you,” Todd says earnestly.

“Don’t thank me,” Jeffrey runs a hand through his hair. “If you left, it would just be me, Mom, and Dad. I think I’d go insane.”

Todd laughs, a question forming in his mind.

“What about you? Do you want to get married?” He envisions Ariane, his almost-fiancee, being paraded down the aisle to Jeffrey.

“I don’t know,” Jeffrey admits. “You’ve always been the more romantic one. If I do marry, though, it’ll be for love. Not as a peace treaty.”

For a moment, Todd can see the wisdom set in Jeffrey’s expression. It suits him.

“You’re going to be a great king,” Todd says.

Jeffrey turns to face him, perplexed.

“I hope you’re right.”

Todd looks much better when Neil shows up an hour later. He still feels pretty queasy, and his head aches, but at least he’s bathed and dressed.

“Good morning, party animal,” Neil laughs, handing him a glass. “Orange juice. Might help.”

“Thank you,” Todd smiles weakly, taking a sip. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. He hopes the juice doesn’t make his nausea any worse.

Todd quickly realizes there’s a discrepancy between his state and Neil’s, which fills him with fear.

“How are you… _not_ gross?”

Neil chuckles at his wording.

“I didn’t drink much.”

 _Great,_ Todd thinks, trying to keep the blood from rushing to his cheeks. _He was sober, and you probably acted like an idiot._ He suddenly remembers Neil bringing him up to his room, putting him to bed. Like a toddler.

Before he can stop himself, Todd rambles, “Sorry if I— if it was annoying— I’m embarrassed—“

“No!” Neil interjects, “don’t be. It was fun. And you needed it.”

Todd isn’t sure if he’s being entirely truthful, but he nods anyways.

“That reminds me,” Todd smiles, raising the glass to his lips again, and remembering Jeffrey's visit. “I have good news.”

The weather is dreadful.

“We could go to the library,” Neil suggests, as they stand under the columns framing the entrance to the garden. A foot ahead of them, rain falls slowly and steadily, splashing drops of water onto Todd’s shoes. He instinctively tucks his copy of the Iliad under his arm, to keep it from getting wet.

“Okay,” Todd agrees.

After the strange disruption in their routine, Todd feels some relief at their ability to fall right back into their usual rhythm. At the same time, though, he finds himself longing for a little more adventure. Something new.

“Actually,” he says, deep in thought as they near the library, “let’s not go there just yet. There’s someone I want you to meet.”

Todd usually doesn’t visit Keating so early in the day, and he hopes he isn’t being disruptive as he knocks lightly on his door. Keating comes to the door after a few seconds, already dressed and drinking some coffee.

“Good morning, Todd,” he says, and noticing Neil at his side, adds, “and company. Please, do come in.”

They both enter, Neil timidly shutting the door behind him. Keating extends his hand out to his sofa, gesturing for them to sit down.

“Tea? Coffee?” He asks, smiling.

“No, thank you,” Neil responds, hands in his lap.

“Tea, please,” Todd requests.

Keating sets some water to boil before taking a seat across from them.

“Sir Perry,” he says, sipping from his mug, “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

Todd resists the urge to throw a pillow at him, already feeling himself begin to blush.

“Have you?” Neil grins, giving Todd an indiscernible look. “He talks about you frequently, too. I’ve been waiting for him to introduce me.”

“Well, then, I’m glad he finally came to his senses.”

Neil and Keating end up getting along much better than Todd expected them to. Keating questions Neil on the ins and outs of knighthood, and Neil absorbs Keating’s rambles on literature and philosophy and such. Though Todd thought it would be strange seeing them together, two people he had been keeping in separate parts of his brain, it’s actually quite comforting.

When they finally leave, well into the afternoon, Todd feels more at peace than he thought he could (so soon after the almost-engaged fiasco, at least).

“I’m glad you both got along so well,” he says to Neil as they stroll along the roofed parts of the courtyard. The rain is still falling, though not as hard as before.

“So am I,” Neil smiles. “I see why you like him so much. He’s your Chiron.”

Todd stops walking, raising an eyebrow.

“My Chiron?”

He thinks of the famous centaur they’ve been reading of, and his role in training the mighty Achilles. There are definitely similarities between them: wise, skilled, fatherly, caring.

“Yes,” Neil repeats, stopping beside him, “your Chiron.”

“Are you likening me to Achilles?” Todd jokes, stifling a laugh. He can’t think of anyone more vastly different from himself.

“I am, yes,” Neil insists, and then, noting Todd’s expression, adds, “you’re both kind, and loyal. You don’t let yourselves be used by those above you.”

“We’re both incredibly dramatic,” Todd sighs, and Neil laughs.

“Hmm, that too.”

Todd rolls his eyes.

“If I’m Achilles, who are you, then?” Todd asks, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear him say it anyways.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Neil grins, beginning to walk again, his steps leaving small ripples in the puddles that have begun to form.

 _Patroclus,_ Todd thinks, before following.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiii !! ok sorry this chapter is shorter than usual and that it took so long,, ive been super busy but also generally unmotivated hehe <3 i literally cannot help the achilles/patroclus parallels ok? i am a simple woman. if i see the chance to compare any two people to achilles and patroclus i absolutely will. anywaysss i have an idea of what chap 7 will be and im v excited to write it !!


	7. Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil and Todd take advantage of a sunny day.

After a week of rain—after dark clouds, and puddles, and days of exploring every vacant corner of the palace—Neil steps out into the bright sunlight.

 _Finally,_ he thinks. Though entertained by Todd, and the Iliad, and Keating’s company, he’s been longing for the world outside castle walls. Even Todd (who was used to being indoors) had grown restless, pacing around the library and making up mildly entertaining games like

_How many books can I stack on my head?_

And when that got boring,

_How many books can I stack on Neil’s head?_

(His highest score was eleven.)

“I was starting to forget what the sky looks like,” Todd jokes beside him, taking in the light. He takes the final bite of his apple from breakfast.

“So was I,” Neil grins, breathing in deeply, as if to absorb as much of the sun as possible. He knows that soon the heat will become intolerable, roasting him in his armor, but for now he basks in the warmth he missed so dearly.

There’s something about the blue of the sky and the way the clouds are spread thin that remind him of a day long ago, a day he and his mother and father spent at the beach. The memory is vivid, bittersweet; his father yelling at him to swim out too far, his mother helping him dig a moat.

“We should go to the beach,” he says suddenly, without thinking.

“The beach?” Todd questions, squinting.

“The beach,” Neil repeats, the idea setting in. He thinks of the cool water, the warm sand.

“It’s quite far,” Todd mumbles, his expression unreadable and then adds, more clearly, “I haven’t been in a while, though. It… it would be nice.”

He’s right about the distance— the nearest beach is about a two hour walk. Faster on horseback, of course, but the palace horses are for emergency use only, and Neil doesn’t think taking one during a threat of war is the best idea.

“I think we can make it,“ Neil replies. As long as they take foo and water, and Neil sheds some of his armor, they should be alright.

“I think I’m dying,” Todd groans, sweat beading on his forehead. They’ve been walking for over an hour— almost two, Neil thinks— and he’s starting to worry they’ll never arrive. The heat is thick and heavy around them, so different from the wet and cold of the past few days that Neil feels he’s been transported to a whole other planet.

“You can’t die,” Neil rolls his eyes, wiping his own sweat away. “I’d lose my job.” The latter part of this joke sparks a bit of worry in his mind, reminding him that taking the prince to the beach (far from the safety of the castle) was definitely _not_ in his job description. _Oh well._ Though he removed all his heavy armor, he carries food with his left hand and his sword with his right. Just in case.

The ground is rough and uneven, and he has to keep his eyes down to stop himself from tripping. The path they’re on is underused and overgrown, trees beginning to branch out into its center. Todd ducks under a branch as he rolls his eyes, laughing weakly. He then takes a sip of water from one of the canteens he carries.

“Can I have some?” Neil pants, and Todd obliges.

When Neil finally catches sight of the clearing a few minutes later, he almost screams with joy. He runs, despite his exhaustion, and Todd soon follows.

“Careful!” Todd laughs as Neil tosses down the cloth-wrapped food and his sword onto the sand. He quickly strips down to his shorts, his clothes forming a small pile. Todd does the same, though setting his clothes down in a far neater manner.

The cold of the water sends a shock of relief throughout Neil’s body as he jumps in. A wave washes over his head, strong but not strong enough to push him back. He rises to the surface again, shaking the water from his hair.

“God,” he grins, ecstatic. Soon Todd appears next to him, his hair darkened by the water, which makes Neil laugh.

“You look a little like your brother,” he says, and Todd responds by splashing water his way.

They spend the day this way, in a haze of sunshine and sand and salt, swimming, and laughing, and drawing in the sand. Neil is taken aback when he rests on the shore beside Todd and notices the sun so low in the sky. Time had somehow slipped away from him.

“I haven’t been here since I was a little kid,” Todd speaks, snapping Neil out of his thoughts. Neil doesn’t respond, only looks at him, waiting for him to continue.

“We used to come all the time, Jeffrey and I. One day he just… well, he got too busy, I guess.”

Though Todd’s tone is dismissive, Neil can detect a hint of sadness.

“I’m sorry,” he responds, earnest.

“Don’t be,” Todd offers him a smile, but falls silent for a bit. Neil doesn’t press him on the subject, not wanting to ruin the peace the day has led them to.

“My parents brought me here a couple times,” he says, “but the last time I came was last summer, with Charlie and the other guys.” He remembers that day, blurry and loud and beautiful.

“That sounds like fun,” Todd muses, and Neil nods, subconsciously picking up his sword and beginning to run his fingers along the hilt. The feeling of the rough leather beneath his fingertips is calming, almost comforting.

“I can’t believe you brought that,” Todd chuckles, shaking his head.

“Of course I brought it,” Neil says, digging the tip of the sword into the sand. “What if someone tried to assassinate you, huh?”

Todd rolls his eyes jokingly. He’s begun to draw small spirals into the sand, Neil notices, with his pointer finger.

“Sure,” he mutters, “that would be something.”

“You know,” Neil begins, leaning back onto his elbows, “your lack of concern for your own safety is mildly concerning.”

“Only mildly?” Todd grins, but Neil remains serious.

“Come on, Neil,” Todd’s smile falls, and he turns to face the water again. “We both know I’m not on anyone’s hit list. And even if I was, it…” His voice trails off.

“It what?” Neil questions.

“Well, it really wouldn’t matter, would it?” Todd states, his voice low. “I’m dispensable.”

Neil frowns, taking in the weight of such a statement.

“No,” he says, firm. “You’re not. Not to me.”

Todd looks up at him, his eyes wide, and for a second Neil sees something there— something bright, and real— but it's gone at soon as it arrived, and Todd runs his hand through his hair, embarrassed.

“Thanks, Neil,” he says, a soft smile beginning to form.

“I mean it,” Neil reiterates, because he wants to make to sure Todd believes him.

The wildest thing of all, Neil thinks, is that a few months ago he might have agreed with Todd. Second in line to the throne, never seen, never heard; Todd was dispensable, for lack of a better term (and if he wasn’t, his position certainly was).

But now Neil feels as though the job he had been given, the one he initially thought insignificant, was one he wouldn’t trade for any other, because Todd is worth protecting. Not _Prince_ Todd— just Todd. His kindness, his intellect, his laugh: these are all things Neil feels are worth putting himself at risk for, and simultaneously the things he thinks about when he rests his head on his pillow at night.

 _Mean that what it will,_ he thinks. He’s too focused on the setting sun, and on Todd beside him, to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii! i cannot thank everyone enough for being so nice,, both in the comments and on tumblr. it makes writing this fic like a million times more fun (and it's already pretty fun so you can imagine how fun it is now). this chap is another shorter one but i was looking forward to writing it for a while and didnt wanna stretch it out too much, or water it down.   
> ANYWAYS i hope u all enjoy. im gonna try to update at least once or twice a week, ive just been drowning in lectures lol.  
> <3


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